


be my baby (i'll look after you)

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Bellamy, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Praise Kink, Roommates, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Finn lets slip to Bellamy the reason he and Clarke broke up -- he wasn't into being called Daddy. Bellamy, however, is.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 498





	be my baby (i'll look after you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightyears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightyears/gifts).



> Happy birthday Rosie! I know yesterday I made it seem like I didn't know when your birthday was, but I was just making sure I didn't have the day wrong lmao

It seems like a regular Thursday night shift at the bar for Bellamy. Suits lined up for a drink after work, girls flirting with him to try and get a free drink. But then, the last person he expects to show up at the bar he works at walks in, and plants himself at a barstool, right in front of Bellamy. Clarke’s ex, Finn Collins.

“Finn,” Bellamy says, trying not to sound too unhappy to see him. He’s presumably a paying customer, after all. Though why he has to come to _this_ bar, Bellamy doesn’t know. “What are you doing here?”

“For a drink, obviously,” Finn says. “I’ll have a rum and coke.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as he turns away to make Finn’s drink. He’s never liked the guy, from the first moment Clarke brought him home. He has no idea why they broke up. Clarke refuses to tell him. He figures it’s Finn’s fault. Clarke never cried about it though, and though it’s only been a couple of weeks, she’s already dating again. Maybe she just woke up and realised Finn’s a huge waste of space.

Bellamy places Finn’s drink in front of him. “Are you opening a tab?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be here a while.”

“Okay, well—maybe get Josie to serve you next time.”

“But I came to talk to you.”

Bellamy stares blankly at him. What could he and Finn possibly have to talk about? “I thought you came here for a drink,” Bellamy huffs.

“That too.” He takes a sip, while Bellamy waits impatiently for Finn to speak. “It’s about Clarke.”

“I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“I think I want her back.”

Bellamy’s jaw ticks. “What makes you think she’d take you back?”

“Well, I’m the one that broke up with her. She didn’t want to break up.”

“She didn’t?” Bellamy repeats dumbly. His stomach twists. It shouldn’t matter to him, and yet it does. As hard as he’s tried not to think about her like _that,_ his efforts have been futile. Of course, he’d been sympathetic when she told him it was over with Finn, but on the inside, he’d been celebrating, and not just because Finn happens to be the worst.

“Does she talk about me?”

“No.” It’s not a lie. Bellamy doesn’t think he’s heard her mention Finn’s name once since they broke up. But maybe she’s secretly pining in silence. The thought sours Bellamy’s mood even more.

“Can I ask you something?” Finn says. “Not as Clarke’s friend. Just as an impartial third party.”

“Whatever.”

“Would you think it was weird if a girl asked if she could call you Daddy?”

Bellamy manages to keep his face expressionless, thought his heartrate kicks up a notch. He’s not about to tell Finn Collins of all people about his kinks. And he’s definitely not going to give him advice on how to get back together with Clarke. Because he’s assuming Finn is still talking about Clarke. He has to be talking about Clarke.

“Is that why you broke up with her?” Bellamy asks cautiously. “Because she wanted to call you Daddy?” He has to know for sure.

Finn shrugs. “Partly. I thought that was weird enough. I don’t want to be part of her daddy issues. But she also wanted me to—I don’t know. Treat her like a little girl. It freaked me out.”

Bellamy feels like he’s about to combust with this newfound information. Clarke Griffin has a daddy kink. As if he wasn’t already attracted to her enough. As if he hasn’t thought about spanking her for being a naughty little girl, thought about her on her knees, calling him Daddy, begging to suck his cock. He always felt guilty about it before—after all, she’s his best friend, and his roommate. He shouldn’t be having any such thoughts about her. She’d be horrified. But now… well, maybe she wouldn’t be so horrified after all.

“So should I be concerned? Or should I just try to be into it?”

Bellamy’s mind whirs. He wants to tell Finn to go to hell. Instead, he says carefully, “Don’t force yourself to be into something you’re not. You’re both better off finding people you’re more sexually compatible with.”

Finn nods thoughtfully. Bellamy didn’t know he could think.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He downs the rest of his drink, then jumps up from the barstool. “Thanks, man. The drink was on the house, right?”

“No,” Bellamy says, but Finn is already leaving, and Bellamy can’t be fucked causing a scene over one drink. He’s just glad to see the back of Finn.

-

He’s not exactly sure how to act around Clarke after that. At first he kind of just… pretends he doesn’t know. Pretends like he’s not thinking about it twenty-four hours a day, even though he keeps fantasising about everything from fucking her so hard she can’t walk straight to tucking her into bed and kissing her goodnight. Most of all, he keeps imagining how it would sound coming out of her mouth. _Daddy_.

The thing is, he really, _really_ wants to act on it. Wants to be her Daddy more than anything. But for one thing, he has no idea how to bring it up with her in a way that isn’t awkward and potentially friendship ruining, should she not be interested. And for another, he doesn’t want her to think he only want to be with her because of the Daddy thing, when in reality that’s just the icing on the cake, because he’s been at least half in love with her for years now.

A fact which he’s rudely reminded of right now, when she walks into the living room, fresh from a shower, dressed in a robe, running a comb through her wet hair. Something between affection and desire lodges in his throat.

“What?” Clarke asks, raising an eyebrow, and Bellamy realises he must have been staring. He swallows.

“Nothing,” he says, but his eyes follow her as she wanders over and sits beside him on the couch.

“You’ve been weird lately,” Clarke muses. “For like—a week.” She runs the comb through her hair again, tugging at it when it gets tangled at the end.

“Let me do that,” Bellamy blurts out, reaching for the comb. Clarke pauses, and Bellamy thinks he notices a faint tinge of pink appear across her cheeks. She slowly hands him the comb.

“Okay.”

Too late, Bellamy realises this isn’t exactly a good case against him acting weird. It’s not like he’s ever offered to brush her hair before. But changing his mind now would just make it seem weirder.

“Come sit on the floor between my legs,” he says, gesturing for her to move. She obeys, sliding to the floor then shuffling over so his legs frame her shoulders.

He combs her hair gently, starting from the ends, the way his mom showed him how to do with Octavia when she was little. Back then, he was just trying to be helpful son. Now, he can feel his cock stirring as he tries to fulfil his stupid primal need to take care of his baby girl.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Clarke says, filling the silence Bellamy hadn’t noticed had risen. Too focused on her hair, on how much he likes running it through his fingers, on how pretty she smells.

“You didn’t ask me a question,” Bellamy points out.

“It was implied.” Clarke waits for him to answer, and when he doesn’t, she prompts him. “Why are you acting weird?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You keep looking at me weirdly. I feel like I’ve got something on my face all the time. And I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

“If it’s something to do with me, then yes. We’re best friends, it’s your duty to me.”

Bellamy finishes combing the tangles out of Clarke’s hair, and starts gathering up sections to braid. He stays silent for a moment, concentrating on the braid, while considering what he should say.

“I ran into Finn last week at the bar,” he says finally. Cautiously.

“That’s what this is about? If he has a new girlfriend, you don’t need to worry about telling me. I really don’t care about him.”

Bellamy tugs on her hair, a little too hard, and she winces. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay.”

“You’re sure you’re over him?” Bellamy asks. “Because he said he was the one who broke up with you.”

“Technically true,” Clarke says. “But it was for the best. We weren’t—compatible.”

“That’s it?” Bellamy presses. “I mean, you never really did tell me what happened with you two. Seems weird that he broke up with you. It’s not like he could do better, you’re already way out of his league.”

Clarke laughs, almost nervously. “Thanks. He, um, didn’t like some of the things I was into. You know, sexually.” She’s trying not to be embarrassed about talking about this with him, Bellamy can tell, but she obviously feels awkward. He wonders if she’d even say that much if she wasn’t facing away from him.

He doesn’t push her any further. He finishes the braid, and Clarke hands him the hair tie from around her wrist so he can tie it up. He strokes her hair, just like he’s smoothing it out, and Clarke leans into his hand.

“There we go,” Bellamy murmurs. “Good girl.” It’s an accident, a slip of the tongue, but he knows he doesn’t imagine her tiny whimper. He sweeps the braid over her shoulder, baring her neck. He rubs his thumbs against the back of her neck, then across her shoulders as she lets her robe drop a little. She hums in appreciation. “That feel good, baby?” Bellamy asks.

“Uh huh,” Clarke says, nodding slightly. If she notices his second slip of the tongue, calling her baby, she doesn’t let on. Though perhaps this time it was less a slip of the tongue, and more a careful test of the waters.

“Such a good girl,” Bellamy repeats, his voice low and soothing. Clarke tenses, and Bellamy pauses his ministrations, heart pounding.

“He told you, didn’t he? Why he broke up with me?”

“Yes,” Bellamy admits. Clarke turns to look at him over her shoulder, blinking up at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asks quietly. Bellamy’s heart skips a beat. He doesn’t blame her for thinking that, of course, but she sounds so small and vulnerable that it makes him feel sick to his stomach that he could let her feel that way. He shakes his head.

“Clarke, I—” he starts, words sticking in his throat. How to tell her that he’s madly in love with her, and wants to take care of her for the rest of her life, without coming on too strong?

He cups her face in one hand, thumb brushing over her cheek. She doesn’t pull away as he leans down, and her lips are already parted for him when he meets them with his own, kissing her more gently than he knew he was capable of. His stomach flips over when she turns further so she can rise up to meet him, kiss him harder. He pulls away, and she chases his lips, on her knees in front of him, whining when she doesn’t find him waiting for her. She opens her eyes.

“What was that?” she asks, a little breathless.

Bellamy snorts out a nervous laugh. He’s never been good at expressing how he feels. “Um—” he starts, ducking his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He manages to meet her eye before he speaks again. It won’t seem sincere if he doesn’t. “I kind of—have feelings for you. For a while now. I was so jealous of Finn, you have no idea.”

Clarke gives a small, bashful smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a jerk.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees. He lifts his chin, gaining confidence. “He wasn’t man enough to take care of you. But I am.” Clarke bites her lip, cheeks pink. Bellamy swallows. “Would you like that?” Clarke nods, and Bellamy feels like he can finally breathe again. He smiles, relieved, ecstatic.

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke says. Bellamy’s breath catches. Her voice is low, a cheeky expression on her face, like she knows exactly what the word will do to him. He manages to keep his composure, but his cock jumps, straining hard against the fly of his jeans.

“Come up here,” Bellamy says, patting his thighs. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap. Want to hold my baby girl.” 

Clarke hurries to obey, eagerly climbing into his lap, and Bellamy’s arms guide her, then wrap around her as he cradles her in his lap. He’s never felt so giddily happy and so turned on at the same time.

He kisses her over and over, her lips urging him on, taking from him what she needs. He can’t keep his hands still, stroking her back and side through her soft robe.

“Are you wearing anything under this, baby?” Bellamy whispers, between kissing her. Clarke shakes her head. “Can I see?” Clarke nods, then buries her head into his shoulder as he reaches for the tie around her waist, pulling at it, then letting her robe fall open.

God, she’s gorgeous. Her full, round tits, pretty pink nipples, her soft tummy, the small patch of dark blonde hair between her legs, her swollen cunt, dripping with desire.

“So beautiful, darling,” Bellamy coos. “I’ve waited so long to see you like this. Can Daddy touch?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke says meekly, flushing under his admiring gaze. It’s strange for her to be so shy with him, but he can’t deny it’s a turn on.

He runs his hand up the side of her stomach to cup her breast, then rubs his palm across her nipple, feeling it pebble beneath his touch. He takes his time caressing her tits, allowing himself to really appreciate them before he dips his hand lower, watching her hold her breath as he trails his fingers down her stomach, stopping just above her slit. She squirms.

“Please, Daddy,” Clarke whispers, blushing.

He kisses her, drawing it out, sweet and dirty. He slips his finger a little lower, then sinks it into her folds, feeling her shift to open her legs for him. He runs his finger along her slit, gathering her arousal on his finger. God, he’s trying so hard to be cool, to be the one in control, but his heart his thrumming, his cock throbbing. He’s nervous and excited and so fucking aroused he thinks he might burst.

Clarke watches him with wide eyes as he brings his finger to his lips and sucks it into his mouth, tasting her for the first time.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You taste so good. I want to lick your cunt. Think my little girl needs her Daddy to make her come, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke nods frantically.

“Not here,” Bellamy says. He’s so not fucking her for the first time on their couch. Instead, he scoops her up into his arms and carries her to his bed. It’s _their_ bed now. There’s no way he’s letting her sleep in her own bed again after this. Unless, of course, he’s there too.

He settles himself between her legs, and hooks her knees over his shoulders. He turns his head to press gentle kisses up her thigh, slowly, teasing, savouring every moment with her. Her noses her folds, breathing in shakily, her scent filling his nostrils.

“Daddy,” Clarke whines. Evidently, he’s being a little too leisurely for his baby’s liking.

“Impatient, aren’t you, darling?” Bellamy says. He’s not teasing, or even amused by it. He’s too aroused, too in awe of her.

His tongue slips between her lips, and he closes his eyes for a moment as he lets the sweetness of her arousal coat his tastebuds. He finds her clit, teases her with his tongue, her every tiny squeak and whimper a jolt to his cock. He licks into her, pushes his tongue as far inside her cunt as he can, and she tilts her hips to meet him.

He devours her, unable to fight his passion, and she only spurs him on, gasping for air, moaning, begging him not to stop. He thighs tremble around his head, and she cries out for him as a rush of liquid pours onto his tongue, her walls clenching around him as he laps up her come, the taste of her already becoming an addiction.

He waits until she’s stopped spasming to pull his tongue from her cunt. He presses his lips to her pubic bone, running his hands over her thighs.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Such a good girl, coming for Daddy like that. You taste so good, sweetheart.”

He slips her legs from off her shoulders, but remains between them, tracing circles on her stomach. Her flushed chest rises and falls dramatically as she tries to regain her breath. He’s hard as hell, but he doesn’t even consider asking her to suck his cock. Tonight isn’t about him. It’s about proving to her that he can look after her like she deserves.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she manages.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he tells her. “It’s my job to make sure my little girl has everything she needs, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke smiles. “Will you cuddle me?”

“Of course, baby,” Bellamy says. He scoots up the bed so he can spoon her, his big arms wrapping around her little body. He kisses her shoulder, and she wriggles back against him, a sigh of contentment escaping her mouth.


End file.
